


Lesson Learnt, Merlyn-Style

by Kickthose



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: 3x07 coda, Douchebaggery, Gen, Merlyns being awesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-01
Updated: 2014-12-01
Packaged: 2018-02-27 18:17:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2702558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kickthose/pseuds/Kickthose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Douchey DJ gets what's coming to him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lesson Learnt, Merlyn-Style

**Author's Note:**

> So apparently, Douchey DJ's name is chase.  
> I couldn't help myself!

 Chase swaggered out of the darkened nightclub, brushing nonexistent dust off of his crinkled pleather jacket. He smirked.

 _Damn_ , I got _game_ , he thought appreciatively. Chase stepped out into Verdant's alleyway, still mentally congratulating himself on his smooth moves on Thea. He added a little fist pump/leer combo as he imagined all the sexy, filthy things he'd do with her. Heheh, he was awesome!

A sudden clatter by the bins at the end of the alley shook him from his happy place. Chase deliberately slowed his walk. He wasn't scared of no raccoon, he wasn't! Them raccoons didn't have jackshit on Chase!

" _Hello_ ," Hissed a voice down the alley.

Chase abandoned his leisurely pace. His hair was _too cool_ to end up in some sicko's scalp collection. Retro-swag, dude! His hair wasn't _naturally_ that shiny. It took gel and some artful mussing! Chase turned to run, stumbling slightly.

"Stop right there, you foul, lascivious imbecile!" the voice hissed viciously.

A terrifying figure clad in bulky, studded armor loomed out of the darkness, nearly giving Chase a heart attack. "I- I don't have any money! Let me go, please! I swear I won't go to the police!" Chase scrabbled against the dirty, bricked up alley wall. His only chance was to get out in the open, where he could try to get help. His only other escape option, however, was cut off as a lithe, feminine figure landed in front of him, crouching on all fours. The figure chuckled, a high, joyful sound that echoed eerily around Chase.

"I don't think so, douchebag!" It called mockingly . The figure breached the shadows.

It was Thea! Her teeth were bared in a spine-chilling snarl. " _I_ think, " her voice dropped to a sibilant whisper as she leaned over Chase, "That he needs to learn a _lesson_ about where he puts his _slimy little mouth_. What say you, Dad?"

Chase was quaking now. The pleather stuck to his clammy skin and his stringy hair was greasier than ever. He was done for! He was going to go, without even having had awesome last-night sex! Even worse, he was about to be torn apart! Chase gripped the wall. Maybe this 'Dad' would stop the little bitch! Yeah, right. Chase prepared to die.

The mysterious 'Dad' pulled his hood off, revealing the sickeningly familiar face of mass murderer, Malcolm Merlyn.

"I concur, daughter," Malcolm smirked evilly. "A nice, slow, _agonizing_ lesson. No one sleazes over my girl when she doesn't want it!"

The empty, broken streets echoed with the DJ's petrified shrieks.


End file.
